Tuesday, December 28, 2010

This is How I Convince my Friends to Do Things

An actual conversation that I had with Sassafras Jones via email:

From: Sassafras Jones <(*CONFIDENTIAL*)>
Subject: Mass on Sunday
To: "The Amazing Miss Fantastic" amazingmissfantastic@gmail.com
Date: Friday, December 24, 2010, 4:38 PM

I rewrote the lyrics to "How Beautiful" to fit the theme of the Holy Family since I realized we didn't have any songs specifically related to the feast of the Holy Family.  It's posted on noteflight under "How Beautiful (Holy Family.)"  Tell me if you like it, or if you think I should change some lyrics.  I'm not quite finished, there's still another verse, but tell me if you like it so far.  We would probably do it instead of Christmas Lullaby, or as a communion meditation.

Let me know!


-Sassafras Jones

On Saturday, December 25, 2010, at 9:06 PM, The Amazing Miss Fantastic < amazingmissfantastic@gmail.com > wrote:

Wow, this is late.  I like the lyrics.  I say we do it as a communion meditation because it would be freaking sweet.  All the people going to receive Jesus and we're just up there being epic and praisin' God with our mad music skills.  Totes.  Yeah...so that's what I had to say.

~The Amazing Miss Fantastic~

On Monday, 12/27/10, Sassafras Jones <(*CONFIDENTIAL*)> wrote:   
From: Sassafras Jones <(*CONFIDENTIAL*)>
Subject: Re: Mass on Sunday
To: The Amazing Miss Fantastic < amazingmissfantastic@gmail.com >
Date: Monday, December 27, 2010, 12:09 PM
Sorry...I didn't get this until today, and I was grumpy at mass yesterday...sorry about that. :(

So I guess I'll talk to (*Super-cool music director*) about next week, I am utterly confused.  If she put us on for a morning mass, I think I'm out.  If it's a 4:30 mass, we'll do that song, and praise God with our mad music skills.  Totes my goats. :)

AND! If it is a 4:30 mass next week, I will be freaking PREPARED this time. No more long-right-before-mass preludes. And my music will be out, not caught in other songs. AND THEN- we will be awesome. And Fr. Priest will learn how to sing fast, and I will be happy. (Just kidding, I don't see that happening any time soon) :)

But anyhoo...we should have music practice this week-when are you free?

On Monday, December 27, 2010 at 12:35 PM, The Amazing Miss Fantastic < amazingmissfantastic@gmail.com > wrote:
I'm free all week, pretty much.  But we still have to do the mass, even if it is a morning mass because we are going to praise the Lord Jesus with song in thanksgiving for all of the wonderful gifts He has given us.  So there, now you have to.  FOR JESUS.  So, yeah.

~The Amazing Miss Fantastic~ ___________________________________________

 From: Sassafras Jones <(*CONFIDENTIAL*)>
Subject: Re: Mass on Sunday
To: The Amazing Miss Fantastic < amazingmissfantastic@gmail.com >
Date: Monday, December 27, 2010, 3:25 PM
nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo I don't want tooooooooooooooooooooo...I'll be so tired.  You can sing when you're tired, but me playing the piano is catastrophic.  You know I like playing for mass, but I don't think that one is happening.  (*Super-cool music director*)'s response made no sense at all, so I emailed her back...I'll let you know
On Mon, Dec 27, 2010 at 5:57 PM, The Amazing Miss Fantastic
 < amazingmissfantastic@gmail.com >  wrote:

For your information, missy, I cannot sing when I am tired. My throat is all clogged with phlegm and nastiness, so I always get up at least two hours early for any mass I have to sing at.  FOR JESUS.  Remember: "Oh, I died for you and he kicked a ball into a net..." only instead of kicking a ball into a net, we are supposed to glorify Jesus, so it'd be more like "Oh, I died for you and you can't get up a little early..." so it's sort of worse.

~The Amazing Miss Fantastic~

 From: Sassafras Jones <(*CONFIDENTIAL*)>
Subject: Re: Mass on Sunday
To: The Amazing Miss Fantastic < amazingmissfantastic@gmail.com >
Date: Monday, December 27, 2010, 7:51 PM

FINE!!! Point taken. Gosh. :) But it's okay anyway! (*Super-cool music director*) said
we can do the 4:30 mass, I asked her if she wanted to sing or play with us and she'll let us know (Since she had to give up the mass) I was on the verge of giving in for the early mass though. You are way too persuasive.

If she hadn't given in or found a solution, I would have either resorted to more guilt trips, or confronted her with the fact that she was not living up to her Winner status.

**Also:  When it says "Remember: 'Oh, I died for you and he kicked a ball into a net...'" I'm referencing a youth conference that we both went to this past summer.  Ah, memories.


I Left my Blogging Notebook in my Locker and now I Can't Remember All the Odd Things I've Thought Were Funny

It's really a predicament.

I actually had a few really good things, like a largely one-sided conversation I had with the Stellar Miss Moon in my head, and an awesome title that would go with a post I could probably never write (because I don't know anything about robots,) but that's all fallen to crap because I was irresponsible and left my blogging notebook in my locker over break.  All I can really tell you is that I have been introduced to the Wii and Wii boxing and that I should never ever ever ever ever ever play Wii boxing when Miss Sassafras Jones is around because I have a tendency to swear, and Miss Sassafras isn't particularly fond of curse words.

Oooh!  But here's something that's actually maybe sorta kind of funny that I just remembered from a while ago, it's a conversation between me and a couple of my friends (Roughly paraphrased):

Lord Chef, the Great and Terrible: The school could actually make some money if they set the band room on fire.  Those instruments probably have a lot of insurance on them.
Me: No.  No one is setting the band room on fire.  I will not allow it.
Lord Chef, the Great and Terrible: They could probably make enough money off of it to buy new instruments for everybody.  You'd get a new shiny!
Me:  I don't care.  Nobody is setting the band room on fire.
Lord Chef, the Great and Terrible:  Or, they could put a bunch of brass wiring where the instruments would be, then they could keep the old instruments and buy new instruments.
Me:  I'm pretty sure that's illegal.  And I don't care.  No one touches the band room.
The Professor:  I'll show you.  I'm going to go touch the band room and no one is going to stop me!
Me:  Okay?
The Professor: *leaves*
---Time Elapses---
The Professor: *returns*
The Professor:  There, I touched the band room door.  What do you have to say about that?
Me:  A pox on you.


And that was an actual conversation that I had with my friends.  I'm not quite sure on how we got on the topic of arson, but I know that just prior to that we had been discussing the worst (or would they be the best?) rooms to set on fire in the school (Chemistry lab, shop room, band room.  Why the band room?  Because it is filled with highly flammable valve oils and music, that's why.)

This is Sort of Counter-Productive

For quite some time now, I have been trying very hard to not act like or become a self-centered witch.  I was working really hard at it, and then I started this blog.

It's kind of counter-productive.

If I really wanted to be humble and all that, I wouldn't have started the darned thing, because, honestly?  A blog is the biggest ego-inflater ever.  Honestly, it's like I'm trying to become self-absorbed.

I guess it's not that bad, though, because I kind of feel like I'm just talking to myself, which I do anyway...a lot.  The blog is also kind of like my imaginary friend...

I should stop talking.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

So, if I'm Dead by Monday, You Know it was Zombies

So, I was driving to my mom's apartment last night at two in the morning.  Actually, I was being driven, but that is beside the point.  So, I'm riding in a car at two in the morning on Christmas Eve (actually, technically, it was Christmas) through a normally busy city-town thing.

And there was no one around.

Seriously, there were no other cars or even people outside.  There were no lights on.  It was seriously eerie.  Also, we were listening to Christmas music.  It was the perfect setting for a zombie apocalypse, because, seriously, if I was going to make a movie about the zombie apocalypse, I would make it all creepy and abandoned, and I would totally have "Jingle Bell Rock" playing on the radio, just because it would add a nice freaky icing to the spooky cake.

So, at this point, I'm pretty much convinced that zombies are waiting inside every house, and I was feeling a little uneasy.  And, to make it worse, my mom lives across the street from a cemetery.  A freaking cemetery, y'all.  So, yeah, I'm probably going to be dead by Monday, and, if I am, you know that it was zombies.  So start preparing for the zombie apocalypse, because it is about to go down. 

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

A Hand Guide for Fruit-Flavored-Snack-Eating

I had some fruit snacks today, and I got to thinking how I always seem to eat them in a certain order...so I thought I'd share this with you, even if it isn't interesting or particularly funny (or funny at all).  Here it goes.

Generally, it goes like this:  I eat the orange ones first, because I happen to hate orange-flavored things.  If there is green, and I know that it is lime-flavored, I will eat it second.  Next, I eat the yellow ones, because I'm actually somewhat fond of lemon-flavored things.  If there is green and I know it isn't lime-flavored, then I will eat it here (if I'm unsure of the green's flavor, I usually eat it here).  Next comes purple.  Purple is always good, but it is not as good as anything that is red or pink, which come next.  Pink is almost always better than red, but I always eat pink before I eat red.  I'm not sure why.  Anyway, after I eat the red, if there is blue, this is where I eat it, because blue is almost always the best of the flavors, and you want to work your way up to the best.

There are some exceptions to this general outline, however, like Jolly Ranchers.  When it comes to Jolly Ranchers, pink actually sucks a lot, and so I usually eat that first.  Then I eat the green ones, because they also kind of suck.  Then it goes purple, red and blue.  Another exception is Gummi Bears.

When I eat Gummi Bears, I usually eat the yellow ones first because they are just awful.  Then I eat the orange ones because, even though I still don't like orange, anything is better than that awful yellow flavor.  Then I eat the white ones, because they're actually pretty good, but they're still not the best.  Then I eat the green ones because green Gummi Bears are freaking sweet.  Then, I eat the pink ones, and then the red.  Again, the pink is better than the red, but I still eat the pink first.

Another exception to this rule is M&Ms.  M&Ms are not fruit-flavored snacks, but they do have different colors.  M&Ms don't have different flavors, so it doesn't matter what order you eat them in, unless you are the King of Marching Band, who only eats them in rainbow order.

This post probably wasn't worth your time.  As a reward for making it to the end, I give you a virtual hug:  *hugs*

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Yeah, So I'm Pretty Much Scarred Forever

Normally, my cat hates me.  I'm fairly certain that one of its favorite pastimes is the plotting of my demise.  However, lately, Cat has been very friendly.  At first I was like "Yay!  Cat loves me!" but then Cat wouldn't leave me alone.  It started to get kind of annoying.  It would not stop rubbing up against my leg and stuff, so I walked away, but Cat followed me, so I moved farther away, but it still followed me.  Then the cat looked like it was trying to...uh...do its business on my foot.  I was all "Woah!  That is not cool, Cat!" and I kind of yelled at it a little and pulled my foot away violently, which must have startled it, because it went away for a little bit after that.  But then a couple minutes later, Cat tried to sit on my foot again, but it sort of backed up to it.  Then I'm like "What the heck, Cat?  What do you think you are doing?"

Then I realized where I had seen this kind of behavior before.

It was on Animal Planet.

On the special on this one pair of tigers at some zoo.

And I realized what was happening.

The fricking cat was in heat.

And it had been trying to molest my foot.

Yeah, so I'm pretty much scarred forever, now.  (Also, I'm avoiding Cat.)

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Go Away, Susan

So, I've been watching the Chronicles of Narnia quite a bit lately, which is always a good thing because, hey, who doesn't love Narnia?  The same people who hate kittens and all that is good in this world, that's who.

Anyway, I love Narnia, but there is just one character I cannot stand:  Susan.  Susan irks me.  She irks me to my core.  I do not like her.  I wish that she would go away.  I can't really give a lot of reasons for my dislike of Susan without including some spoilers, so suffice it to say that she is just a smidge too Susan-y for my tastes.

Also, she is after my man.

Seriously, Susan?  You go and be all not productive and almost get Lucy eaten by a bear when you can't aim your stupid bow which you used for, like, twenty years the last time you were in Narnia, and then you try to make a move on Caspian?

Nuh-uh.  I am not okay with this.

I am going to take your stupid bow and drive you out of Narnia with it so that Caspian and I can live in peace, far away from your home-wrecking tendencies.  There is no use arguing, for I have made up my mind.  Seriously, you are the most wortless ruler of Narnia ever.  Queen Susan the Gentle?  Really?  Even Edmund got a cooler title than you did, and he almost ruined everything by siding with the White Witch.  That just goes to show how much you suck.

Goodbye, Susan.  I will miss you not at all.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Butterflies are One of my Greatest Fears

I am going to tell you a story from my childhood.  When I was in first grade, my teacher taught us about butterflies.  We studied them and we even raised some.  Then, as a grand finale to our butterfly study, we went to a butterfly house.

When we got there, my teacher told us that if we all stood very still, and were very quiet, that the butterflies would land on us.  I did not want this to happen.  I don't know when my butterfly phobia started, but it must have been at a very young age, because I was definitely terrified of those evil, demon winged beasts.  I didn't want them anywhere near me.  So, you can probably guess what I did.  I left very calmly and waited outside.

That was what should have happened.

This is what actually happened.

Upon hearing that being very still and quiet would get the butterflies to land on me, I began to run around and scream.  To my first-grader mind, this made complete sense.  Butterflies wanted me to stand still and be quiet so they could land on me, I did not want butterflies to land on me, I ran around and screamed.

It's basic logic.

Anyway, my screaming rampage continued until someone (I think it was my mom) had the presence of mind to pull me out of there and calm me down.

And that, my friends, is how my elementary school was forever banned from that butterfly house.  The end.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Zombie Apology

It has been a very long time since I posted anything.  To make up for it, I will do some freewriting involving zombies.

It was a dark and stormy night.  Rain pelted the windshield, refusing to let me sleep.  On and on and on.  I needed to sleep, why wouldn't it let me sleep?  I NEED SLEEP, LET ME SLEEP, YOU STUPID RAIN!


Calm down.  It's only rain.  It's not doing this to you on purpose, it doesn't know that you have to sleep to keep up your energy so you can fight.

Well, while you're up, you might as well clean your weapons, no one likes a bloody axe, after all.  That makes sense.  I climb into the back of the pickup truck and pick up my axe.  I named it Maybel.  Maybel has decapitated several undead monsters in the past few days.  Good Maybel.

Everyone else is alseep.  That's not surprising; we had a right good fight today. 

BAM!!  Zombie at the window, we're all awake now.  John starts the car and we drive off.

We ride in silence.  It's not awkward, though.  We all have so much to think about that we don't mind silence so much anymore.  I'm thinking about the last time I ate.  It was probably at least two days ago.  We haven't been able to stop for food lately, you know, with the ZOMBIES and everything.  Goodness, I'm hungry.  What I wouldn't give for a feast, a real feast.  Something spectacular, with beef and turkey and pie and potatoes and carrots and more pie.  Wait a minute...

We missed Thanksgiving.

How could we have missed Thanksgiving?  It is one of the greatest food holidays of all time!  Plus, we have plenty to be thankful for:  we're alive, aren't we?

"John, we missed Thanksgiving."
"We missed Thanksgiving."
"And that's important because....?"
"Because we freaking missed Thanksgiving!  We  missed turkey!  We missed PIE!"
"Are you completely insane?"
"We need to stop and find food.  We are going to have a proper feast."
"You want me to stop the truck, so that you can go outside, at night, in the middle of a zombie infestation, to look for food.  Is that correct?"
"You are crazy."
"John, we need to have Thanksgiving."
"I'm not stopping the truck."

At this point, everyone in the truck is pretty distressed because I brought up Thanksgiving and John is being a total jerk and not stopping the truck.  Stella looks like she has half a mind to stop the truck herself.  Marcus is looking mournfully down at his belly.  Titan is walking around in circles wimpering.  He's a dog, so he doesn't understand English, but I'm pretty sure he knows that we're arguing about getting food.

John is being a total jerk.

Was that a turkey?  I thought I saw a wild turkey out the window. 

"John, stop right now.  STOP STOP STOP!!!"

John slams on the brakes. 

"What, what is it?"

It's too late to stop me.  I have seen food with my own eyes, and it will be mine.  I will kill it with my bare hands if need be.  I quickly cover the distance between me and the turkey, visions of stuffing dancing in my head.

Immediately, I know that something is wrong.  There is something weird about this turkey.  It didn't even try to run, and it's not struggling right now.  Plus its eyes, it has weird, milky looking eyes.  Are it's feathers falling out?  What the heck?  Then it hits me:

Zombie turkey.

Needless to say, I high-tailed it out of there.  Now there is zombie poultry?  What is this world coming to?  All I wanted was Thanksgiving.


Yeah, so I didn't know how to end that.  Maybe I will do some more freewriting with zombies later.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Not a Good Way to Start the Day

I usually start my day by being gently nudged into consciousness by some lovely classical music (Rachmaninov, of course.)

Today was not a usual day.

My alarm went off at its usual time, and I turned it down so I could sleep longer, like I usually do.  This is where the usual-ness ends.  I was torn from sleep at 6:30 this morning by a combination of my cat incessantly whining at my door and Adam Lambert screaming at my from my sisters' bedroom ("IF I HAD YOU, THAT WOULD BE THE ONLY THING I'D EVER NEED!" Sorry, Adam Lambert, I'm just not that in to you.  Plus, I'm sleepy.)

I do not usually get up at 6:30 A.M.  This is not good for me.  I spent the next half hour trying to get back to sleep, but I only succeeded in giving myself some bizarre waking dreams.  I also think that the scary Voldemort toy salesmen who held me captive in his basement in my dream yesterday was in my dream last night, which only makes things worse.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Harry Potter Weekend Makes Me Think Strange Things

I was watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban today.  You know the part where Harry, Ron and Hermione are on the train to Hogwarts and the train stops and a Dementor comes in and is all "Mind if I suck your soul?  You do?  Too bad."  and then it goes all soul-suck-y and Harry passes out?  Yeah.  Well, here's what I think should have happened:

*Train stops moving*
Hermione:  Why is the train stopping?  We can't be there yet.
*Lights go out*
Hermione:  Yeah, I'm going to lock the compartment door.  Just to be safe.  *locks door*
*Windows start frosting over and Dementor comes to the door*
Dementor:  *tries to open door, but can't because it is locked*
Harry, Ron and Hermione:  *stare at Dementor*
Dementor:  *knocks*  Hey, could you guys let me in?
Harry:  Sorry.  Whatever it is you're selling, we don't want any.
Dementor:  No, I'm not selling anything...
Hermione:  Um, we're not home right now, but if you could leave a message, we'll get back to you.
Dementor:  I know you're in there.  I can see you.  It is a glass door.
Ron:  No hablo espanol.
Dementor:  What?

Then they would ignore Dementor and Dementor would go away.  The End.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The Great Rambling Wednesday

Today was the last of the Quiz Bowl meets.  It was held at my school's sports rival (but sports rivalries don't really matter in Quiz Bowl or band.)  Anyway, at every Quiz Bowl meet, there is a buffet of delicious goodies.  Rival High had their buffet of delicious goodies in their library.  When you enter the library to partake in the deliciousness, you are confronted with this sight:

I call fail.

On with the story.

When we finished partaking in the wonderous delights of the buffet, we went to the rooms where the matches would be held.  In our first match, there was a guy who had a varsity jacket for Quiz Bowl, band and something else that I can't remember.  What I do remember, though, is that he is also a Drum Major.  I was wearing my band t-shirt, which has Drum Major written across the sholders, and I really wanted to show him, but I felt that it would be slightly creepy and weird, so I didn't.  Anyway, the rest of the meet went on and we won all of our matches.  The end. 

Or is it?

Obviously not, because I'm still writing.

After our meet, we went out to eat.  I rode with my friend, the Professor.  We had a grand old time.  When we got to the restaurant, (okay, it was more than likely a bar.  What do you expect?  The region I live in was founded by Germans and the Irish) I went to the bathroom, where the water mysteriously flowed diagonally out of the faucet.  When I got back to the table, we all ordered our food.

Our coach (yes, there is a coach for Quiz Bowl) bought us appetizers.  Before they came, the waitress brought us some sauces to dip things in.  This is what I saw:

It is, quite obviously, a face.

Anyway, we had wonderful dinner conversations about not committing murder at the dinner table (murder should only be committed at the murder table.  Dinner can, however, occasionally be served at the murder table.)  We also talked about how I could kill people with my knitting needles.

On the ride home, I rode with the Professor again.  Here is a slightly paraphrased recounting of part of our conversation:

The Professor: Those are leaves.  I would drive through them, but I don't know what's underneath them.  There could be small children.
Me: Or worse, gremlins.  Or, even worse, small gremlins.
The Professor:  Yeah, it's the small gremlins you've got to watch out for.  People think it's the big gremlins, but no, it's the little ones.  Silly gremlins
Me: Trix are for kids
The Professor:  You think they want Trix, but they're really after your organs!

We laughed, then went on to talk about zombie deer (hide your grass!) and how Dead End Gulch would be a sweet name for and old-timey western town and how Chuck Norris punches with his feet and kicks with his fists.

It was a grand old time.

Then we went to the Youth Center, where I played Kumcha with my friends (the Stellar Miss Moon, The Great Bobini, the King of Marching Band [he actually prefers "Archbishop of Marching Band"] and Mother Duck.) and all was merry and bright.

The end.

For reals this time.

Scout's honor.  (You can't see it, but I'm doing the scout finger holdey-uppey thing.)

Monday, November 8, 2010

Humiliation Smells Like Pizza (Alternate Title: Carol of the Buzzers)

As was mentioned in my first post, I am in Quiz Bowl (Pony league Jeopardy!, remember?).  Anyway, at my school, our final practice of the year (yes, we have practice for Quiz Bowl) pits all of the Quiz Bowl members against some of the teachers.  We do this every year, and we almost always lose.  But, Fanny, you ask, how could a group of specially-trained, super-awesome smart people possibly be beaten by a mere handful of teachers?  Well, I'll tell you.  It's not really the group of teachers so much as the one teacher.  The science teacher, Mr. Science.

Mr. Science is one of my favorite teachers, and I'm really sad that I don't have any of his classes this year, but  I wouldn't mind if he missed the Quiz Bowl v. Teachers scrimmage.  Why, you ask?  Again, I shall tell you.  It is because Mr. Science is a beast when it comes to Quiz Bowl.  He knows everything.  Plus, he's fast.  Competing with him is like competing with a lightning bolt of pure intelligence.  You cannot win.

At the end of the match, Mr. Science is always triumphant and the Quiz Bowl team is left humiliated while we stand in shock with our brains dripping our of our noses because it's that bad.

Anyway, after we are shamed into the ground, we get pizza.  Some school organization pays for it.  I can't remember which one it is, but I know that we get pizza, and that the price of pizza is humiliation.  Does that sound like a fair trade to you?

Yes, yes it does.

Pizza rocks.

Friday, November 5, 2010

What the Heck, Toy Story 3?

Today, I went over to my friend's house to watch Toy Story 3 with a few people.  We were all thinking "Yay!  Toy Story 3!  This is going to be great!"  WRONG.  It sucked.  It was one of the worst experiences ever.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't think that the movie was bad (it was actually very good), but the whole thing made me very upset and I almost cried.  What the heck, Toy Story?  You used to be awesome and you left me feeling great about myself, now I feel like my childhood is dead and that I need to give away all of my toys to some mysterious stranger.  

I don't want to give my toys to some mysterious stranger.  Not even if she is adorable.

Whatever.  I'm going to go eat chocolate and watch cartoons and try to get over the emotional trauma of having my childhood nearly stolen from me by Disney.  Seriously, what is wrong with them?

P.S.-There were some weird noises coming from the back of my car tonight (actually, it's my dad's car, but whatever).  My sister (Sister A) thinks it was just a rock, but I know better.  It's probably Lotso Love, that stupid bear, or the monkey.  Hopefully not the monkey, because the monkey is kind of freaky.

P.P.S-My car also made another noise, which was definitely NOT a rock, so it was almost definitely an evil teddy bear and/or monkey.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

First Impressions-They're Important. Especially if You Don't Want to be a Serf.

First impressions are very important.  You and I, as well as many others, know this.  Some people, however, seem to have missed the information train when it comes to first impressions.  Today was a fine example.

This morning, I was in the library talking to my friends, waiting for the bell to ring, signifying that the dreaded class day had begun.  When it did, we all filed into the hallway where the lockers are.

I was walking with my good friend, the Wonderful Miss Funshine to her locker, as per usual. When we got to her locker, we hugged before parting ways, like we always do.

There is a new kid in our school.  I don't know his name, so we will call him New Kid.  New Kid had never said anything to me before this morning.  When I stopped to hug the Wonderful Miss Funshine, he yelled at me (actually, he probably wasn't yelling at anyone in particular, it was probably one of those weird things that you're supposed to say quietly to yourself when you're too chicken to actually confront someone, only he said it really loudly.  Anyway, back to the story).  He said, and I quote: "Jeez, woman!  Stop right in front of me in the hallway, why don't you?"

Why don't I, indeed.

Now, as you may or may not have noticed, my name is not "woman," and I do not enjoy being referred to as such.  So, naturally, I got a little angry.  I thought about enacting some horribly vicious revenge, like calling him a jerk, but I was still with the Wonderful Miss Funshine, and she brightens my day, so I didn't.  He probably doesn't even realize just how close he came to inciting the wrath of a 5 foot 5 former Girl Scout.

But, seriously, "woman?"  I have a name, you know.  What are you going to do next, New Kid?  Huh?  Are you going to demand that I "make you a sammich?"  Because I won't.  Not even if you say please.  That's how mad I am about this.  I freaking love sandwiches, but I wouldn't make you one even if you begged me.  Maybe you could have the scraps from the one that I would make for my dog before I made one for you, because my dog is freaking awesome and you can't even compare so you can just shut up.

What was I saying, again?

Oh, right.  "Woman."

Seriously, though, that's pretty disrespectful.  Especially since New Kid is a freshman or something (I think.  He's definitely a freshman or a sophomore.  I'm pretty sure he's a freshman though.) and I am a junior.  I had no opinion about New Kid before this little incident.  Now, because of his horrible first impression, he irks me.  And by irking me, he pretty much ruined any chance he had of being in my favor when I take over America with the little old ladies when the country's infrastructure collapses (it'll be any day now, just you wait.)  So, yeah, he pretty much doomed himself to a life of serfdom in my glorious new kingdom, just by making a poor first impression.    So, to sum up: poor first impression=life as lowly peasant without rights under the rule of little old ladies, and me, the Amazing Miss Fantastic.  I hope this shows you just how important first impressions are.  If not, well, I could always use more serfs for my kingdom.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The Amazing Miss Fantastic

Hello, my name is the Amazing Miss Fantastic, but you can call me Fanny.  I suppose Missy or Amy would work as well, but they just aren't as funny sounding.  I thought I would share a few things about myself so that all you strangers could get to know me.  Break out you best social smile, and let's get started!
1.  I live in America
2.  I like music
3.  I'm not particularly fond of sports
4.  I'm Drum Major in my marching band
5.  I have many siblings
6.  I have even more cousins
7.  I also have a dog and a cat
8.  My mom has two cats, which makes me worry about her sometimes
9.  I am in Quiz Bowl (for those who don't know, it's like minor league Jeopardy!   Actually, no.  QuizBusters is like minor league Jeopardy!, quiz bowl is more like pony league.)
10.  I'm also in student council (like anyone cares)
11.  I like to read
12.  I also like to write.
13.  Thirteen is my favorite number
14.  In case you haven't deduced this, I am social outcast, of sorts.
15.  I like to watch TV
16.  Some of my favorite shows are (in no particular order): Psych, Invader ZIM, Avatar: the Last Airbender, Teen Titans, The Soup, Mythbusters and Phineas and Ferb
17.  I play the trombone in the band mentioned in #4.  I also play a little guitar.  Mostly, though, I sing.
18.  I'm running out of things to say (can you tell?)
My, my.  Look at the time.  I'm so sorry, I really must be going.  Well, that you for listening.  It was wonderful speaking with you.  Perhaps we can do this again?  Wonderful.